Summers in the Capitol
by Lulu473
Summary: All Effie Trinket has ever wanted to do is serve her Capitol. Assigned to District 12 as an escort, she is soon mystified by the bitter mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, and drawn into a confusing and heartbreaking alliance with him. As she struggles with feelings of guilt over the lost tributes of 12 and her wavering support to her beloved Capitol, can she resist betraying all, for him?
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, this is my first shot at this so please be kind! Feedback welcome. Enjoy!**_

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_"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind." _  
_― William Shakespeare_

Her whole body ached. Constant beatings meant that resistance had been gradually built up but her heart, mind and soul were shattered. She didn't cry out anymore. At the start it was unbearable, and with every blow of their hands and feet she screamed, for him. She knew now he would not come back for her.

Her hair, shorn off when she arrived, now hung past her shoulders, matted and filthy. Her body was deathly thin under a simple dirty shift, and bones jutted out at all angles. She rubbed her uncomfortable joints, failing to alleviate the ebbing pain pulsating through them.

The Capitol had a pill for malnutrition.

She doubted the Capitol would give her anything but torture ever again.

As the clock tolled, sounding the changing of the guards, Effie pondered what would await her this time. Every morning she woke up was increasingly unworthy of her time and strength. They had not, and would not, get any information from her. Right on cue, heavy, clunking footsteps sounded, coming in the direction of her cell. She looked down and cursed herself silently for appreciating their punctuality. Time was one thing Effie could control.

Lowering her head and drawing her body taut against the wall, she swore she could see blood being pumped in the veins through her translucent papery skin. She shuddered at the sound of the hushed whispers outside her cell, dreading the fresh hell that awaited her today. Maybe it would be her last. The sound of metal grating on metal as the door was jolted open was sickening, and she didn't dare look up. Her vision blurred as she felt a set of strong arms lifting her, pulling her close. Before she blacked out she saw one face, only one. What he said didn't really register; she had forgotten what it was like to have someone talk to her, or care. Limp in his arms, she missed the only words that mattered.

"I've got you, sweetheart."


	2. Chapter 2

Effie Trinket loved the finer things in life. Her father had been an extraordinary businessman, and so they had lived a carefree life filled with all the luxuries the Districts had to offer. From a young age her love of all things beautiful shone through – she loved fashion and the latest styles, exquisite furniture and delectable foods.

At sixteen she received her mother's blessing to cut her hair short and wear her very first wig, a purchase that – so her mother claimed - was a rite of passage in every Capitol girl's life. And yet Effie always wanted more.

Every child in Panem is taught about the Rebellions, the quashing of the unruly districts by the Capitol, and even the destruction of District 13. But Effie never really cared for school. She watched videos on the topic, though, and her heart swelled with pride as soon as the national anthem came on. She loved her Capitol, and as much as she longed to live a life of idle, carefree bliss, she knew she was bound to a life of servitude to her great nation.

As penance for their deep betrayal, one boy and one girl are selected every year from each of the twelve districts in a process known as the Reaping, and are then pitted against one another in combat, "The Hunger Games", until a lone victor remains. Effie found this thrilling beyond belief, but in her early years never had much success picking on a winner. Betting lost her an immense sum of money, but she didn't mind because she knew that wasn't the point of these Games. Panem would never suffer war ever again.

And so, on the eve of her twentieth birthday, Effie Trinket went down to the Hunger Games Electorate building and had her name pushed to the top of the list. When she woke up she was no longer a child, but rather a young woman in the employ of the Capitol. Her happiness was overshadowed slightly by the fact that she was the assigned escort to District 12, but she comforted herself with a slice of cake and the knowledge that once she had proven herself worthy, the Capitol would trust her with the tributes from District 2, or maybe even 1.

And that was the best gift she could ever have received.

Almost three weeks later she left for 12 to preside over her very first Reaping. The train was the finest, newly sent from 6, and flew over the tracks at around 250 miles an hour without tipping over passengers in the slightest. Effie could barely contain her excitement. She had never particularly been interested in seeing Panem, but as it sped past her she could not prevent her eyes from straying past the opulent décor and out onto the landscape, quickly fleeing away at the very sight of this train. This train was the top of the range, furnished to the nines and an acceptable substitute, she thought, to her own apartment over the centre of the city. Her bedroom had all the facilities, and was now filled with her things; this she had insisted on. A dressmaker's manikin stood in the corner wearing a splendid skirt suit she had designed herself especially for the Reaping. The pale ochre suit was swathed in chiffon the colour of sunlight, and towering lemon heels rested gently against the wall. If she had to pick one thing she loved the most, it would be looking good.

Checking herself, she readjusted her wig and patted her cheek to ensure her makeup still held up. Tomorrow she would be meeting various officials, such as the mayor and other high standing members of the community, but also one very special man. A man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy. He was the only living victor for District 12 as the winner of the 50th Hunger Games, and so was a mentor to the tributes that followed. This made him, although indirectly, involved in every one of the Games. Effie was apprehensive to say the least; she knew him to be a compulsive liar, and a notorious drunkard. She still remembered his victory well, though, despite being too ill that year to watch the end, confined to bed with a fever. The reruns had been shown for months afterwards. That was the year that twice as many tributes were sent into the arena, and Haymitch struck up an alliance with the other tribute from Twelve, Maysilee Donner. She was killed shortly before the end and Haymitch's victory came as a fluke soon after, when a female Career threw an axe which rebounded against a force field and took her out. Crowned at fourteen, he had been a mentor ever since, spending the vast majority of his Capitol wages on alcohol. He was still mourning the death of his family in a freak accident, or something. Where she came from, many people drank, but _everyone _cared about their appearances, and in all the press photos Haymitch's hair was never combed nor was anything about him presentable in any way. And this irked Effie. Still, she had just under a day to work out her strategy and practise laying on her famous Trinket charm, which was more than enough time for a Capitol lady to make do and mend.

The train pulled into the station at around three o'clock the day before the Reaping, but regrettably no one other than an attendant to greet her, with another to carry her bags. They didn't exchange words on the short car trip to the mayor's house, but she caught him looking at her through the rear-view mirror a couple of times. Poor boy. She was probably the most exotic thing he had ever seen, and the most exciting thing to happen to him that day. She was just happy she could make a difference.

Since there were no guest lodgings anywhere, it was decided that Effie would stay in the Mayor's house, a huge old building not far from the centre of the district. It looked like it was about to fall down, she noted with muted disgust, as she got out the car. The whole situation seemed a little shifty to her; there was no one around, not even the mayor, and the attendants had disappeared inside with her bags. The was no noise, save for the whistle of a cold breeze drawing dust out into the streets, and onto her. She brushed it away ruefully and drew her coat closer around her shoulders, huffing indignantly at the rudeness of these people. She was loathe to call them savages _just yet_, but polite citizens didn't neglect to turn out to welcome Capitol visitors, or at least issue a welcome party. Effie didn't know quite what was happening, and she resigned herself to not knowing. It wasn't her business. And if the reason they hadn't come to see her was because they hated her, then she knew she had to change that. She would be so charming that they would have no choice but to like her. And as for Mr Abernathy, she would fix him as well. She would clean him up (not personally, of course, that was not what polite Capitol ladies did) and force him to adopt soberness, even if it killed her. District 12, under her instruction, would no longer be the embarrassment that he had made it into.

The cold made the hairs on her arms stand up on end. It was too late to be hanging around alone on the streets of a district well known to be of ill repute. As she pushed open the heavy oak door of the Mayor's home, she could have sworn she was being watched, the feeling that a hundred pairs of eyes were stripping her to the very bone. She didn't turn around. If she was being surveyed, it would just be because she was so fascinating to these unworldly people. She couldn't help that. But she did know that in time they would come to know and love her, and would maybe even stop being so uptight about offering up tributes. Didn't they see know it was for their own good?

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**Thanks for reading! I have exams all next week, so don't expect an update soon, but as soon as I have it you will too. Don't forget to review! x**


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